I'll stop you right there. I know what you're thinking. It's what everybody asks. No, I'm not banging my partner. I know she's gorgeous, wicked smart, and can kick a guys butt with her eyes closed. But she trusts me to guard her back. Not stare at her backside. It doesn't matter that every time I watch her slap the handcuffs on a suspect, I imagine she's doing it to me—one cuff on the wrist, the other to my headboard. Some lines can't be crossed—Until they can.